Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Forget the date, it's just a Wednesday like any other.

Firstly, before we begin, rest assured this blog contains no April Fools pranks, japes, gags, tomfoolery, or mishegas.

I mean, come on, we're all grownups here, right?

Just kidding--about the grownup thing, I mean. I'm not kidding about the no April Fools thing. After all, the world of cycling is a running gag 365 days a year anyway, so it's kind of lame when the bike industry and media takes pleasure in tricking you with a post or press release that's really no more absurd than yesterday's or tomorrow's.

Volvo’s new spray is transparent and reflective. During the day, it’s invisible but at night, it lights up when headlights appear. Cyclists and even street walkers can spray LifePaint on their bikes and clothes before heading out at night.

Ah, so it's a marketing tool for prostitutes.

Now I get it.

Also:

What’s even more fantastic about it? It washes off and it won’t stain!

Wait a minute. If it washes off, then what happens when it rains? Do you just become invisible again and leave an iridescent pee puddle behind?

Also, Volvo's repurposed vajazzling spray isn't much help during daylight hours, nor does it guard against taxi drivers who take detours on greenways:

(Photographed by a reader this past weekend.)

This is the Hudson River Greenway at around 65th Street, and if you're familiar with this stretch you're probably wondering, "How the fuck did the driver even pull this stunt off?" If memory serves, the nearest place the Greenway crosses a street that's open to motor vehicle traffic is at 59th Street, which means the driver was cruising along for at least a few blocks before encountering the indifference of the park police and turning around:

And yes, the driver was carrying a fare, who according to the photographer decided to walk the rest of the way.

Come on, how dashing do I look? And before you answer I should probably show you the rest of my outfit:

Hey, when it comes to sartorial sense, we can't all be Bret, now can we?

(Via a reader.)

No, we cannot.

Anyway, yesterday I engaged in "multimodal transport," which is how the smuggies say "If it rains take the bus"--or in my case, the train, as I opted to park my Smugness Flotilla at the station and ride the rails along with the commuters who, as E.B. White put it, "give the city its tidal restlessness:"

I like that the MTA has a ready-made sign for that.

During the course of my day I also spotted this poorly-locked 1990s Manitou hardtail with a remarkable dearth of scratches and blemishes given it must be at least 20 years old:

Back in the '90s the mountain bike was what the track bike was in "aughts," which is to say lots of people bought them to look cool and never used them for the purpose for which they were designed. I'm guessing the original owner of this bike was also caught up in the '90s mountain bike fashion boom, because it still has the original brake pads:

Hopefully the current owner got a good deal on it--especially since it's not going to last long with only a cable lock.

As much as I enjoy riding my 29er (which is already obsolete by cycling industry standards) I miss the days of 26-inch mountain bikes with primitive forks that used pencil erasers for suspension, for the simple reason that they kept people honest. Now there's a mountain bike for every conceivable terrain, no matter how adverse and treacherous: full-suspension 29ers, fat bikes, ebikes... In 20 years a typical mountain bike trail is going to be a vertical cliff:

(You just need to come into it with some momentum.)

Returning home, I rendezvoused (now there's a word that's awkward on "paper") with the Smugness Flotilla at the trains station beneath the soft glow of a streetlight:

Between my tan Inspector Gadget jacket and the rain-soaked streets our meeting seemed thrillingly illicit, and I found myself caught up in the illusion that I was a spy. So I found a fitting spot to meet my "contact:"

The view provided a suitable backdrop for intrigue:

And if you look more closely you'll see what is quite clearly a UFO:

Though I ignored the science-fictional implications so as not to mix genres.

Soon, the Smugness Flotilla and I met our contact, who was a Dutch femme fatale:

Handing me a note, I opened it and read a single name, and when I looked up again she was gone.

I knew what I had to do, and I won't say any more except that we dispensed with our target:

With that I pedaled away, my Crocs squeaking faintly and my leg hairs rustling in the wind.

87 comments:

It's so nice. The sun is shining brightly in a blue sky. It's a balmy 51 degrees American. I rode my biek to work today. That's made out of titanium. And rocking my murdered out bsnyc cap on my head. No helment. life is good.

BSNYC said, "which is to say lots of people bought them to look cool and never used them for the purpose for which they were designed."

Not me, I am definitely sure Guiseppe Olmo designed the early 80s Competition model for [oversize] 'old white guys'(you know, the new evil species) to commute to their office jobs via Cat 6 competiziones.

So nice that he put on down tube shifter braze ons because they work great for my brifter cable stops.

Deserving of its own post - I saw the movie "My Italian Secret" at the theater on 12th St off University Place. Stories of Italians hiding Jews and helping their escape during WWII. Gino Bartali's story figures prominently through the film. I think it's there til 4/9/2015.

Bike snob. I'm ashamed of your tactics for being a cycling murderer. A true cycling murderer always destroys there target while wearing road shoes. And also wrapped in neoprene sleeve, to act as a moccasin.

Back briefly to the Red Kite Prayer nonsense of a few days back, someone mentioned that their writing, albeit a little Fredly, can be quite good. A few naive souls tried to find out a couple of years back but despite the campaign it falling on the first of April the supporters have all been Kickstartered in the nuts. Check this out: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1144730038/why-we-ride/comments

Gah! Pencil eraser-suspended indeed! Got tricked into procuring one of those Manitou forks for my awesome ALUMINIUM biek in the early '90s. Talk about stiction, was back to the Tange after a few rides.

Wait a minute, I thought you said there were no April Fool jokes! Nice play with the Fabian Cancellara cologne. But then Specialized is always a joke, so the cologne is obviously the real one. If only there was a way to look these things up and check for myself. So confused.

Er, I had no idea you were such a slave to fashion, snobberdoodums. Only the chic-est of the chic are onto the socks in sandals thing so soon. But suddenly it IS a thing again, especially for men. Or male lesbians. And I figured that was one fashion which would never, ever return, so vilified did it become. I blame norm-core.

Rendezvouzing is awkward, too, but I still want to know more about what you were doing. Not sure I do want to know what that fucking thing is, though.

Even though we have perfectly functional mountains just across the bridge (which I crossed on a good morning ride this morning) I prolly only hop on ol Rocky's Got Soul once a year now a dayz. But all the mountain bike riding I used to do has given me roadie-chicken-wings I have to consciously clip, because they most certainly don't help a girl fly.

I did see the first hummingbird at my feeder today. It's one of the harbringers of pollen hell. The bastard.If Snob goes bare legged, if you can call that fur bare legged, in sandals and socks, in an Inspector Gadget jacket, that takes real balz fashion sense wise. After all, all we saw was the jacket, socks, and sandals. Remaining clothing only speculation. I'm with Babble on that one. That must have been the April Fools jape.

A few things that we know: Doping didn't end when countries like Spain, Italy and Germany made sports doping an actual crime, making it too dangerous for the doping Drs to continue with their business. Doping didn't end, it just moved east to the former Soviet Union. Katusha is a well financed Russian team. Katusha's riders have been winning a lot lately. You can make your own conclusions.

Good morning! On a mountain bike you get into the habit of keeping your elbows open and bent. On a roadbike you don't lock your elbows, but you have to keep them tucked close to your body, lest you lose speed to unnecessary wind resistance. You can almost always tell who came to a roadbike from a mountain bike by the way they hold their arms. Or so I've been told.

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About Me

While I love cycling and embrace it in all its forms, I'm also extremely critical. So I present to you my venting for your amusement and betterment. No offense meant to the critiqued. Always keep riding!